The night wind blew in a bright balloon, one made for adventure.
Rubbing my eyes I thought, this is no time for sleep. So I climbed from my bed and out I went, balloon shining over my shoulder.
Padding down my steps we followed a sidewalk lined with cool and silent cars.
Stopping in a circle of pale lamp-light I gazed up into the shadows of a maple tree and spotted a nest.
Too far to reach, too far to climb, I jumped, but couldn’t jump that high.
The balloon gave a tug and whisked me off the ground.
Among swaying branches I could see that the nest held tiny sleeping chicks.
Rising still, I left the maple tree below and could soon see far beyond my street.
The ball court and the playground were dark, swings barely moving in the gentle breeze. All my friends were home, asleep.
The higher we rose, the smaller everything became. Beneath my dangling feet the maple tree, the street-lamp and the parked cars all became toys.
Adrift in the night wind, we floated on. We rose into a cloud, its stillness blanketing the sleeping town. Cool mist brushed my face and I closed my eyes.
When I opened them again there were covers drawn about my head.
Beyond my window a golden balloon appeared.
I smiled, but blew a goodbye kiss to the bright one, drifting, drifting far away on the night wind.